


As We Are

by otterintheflightdeck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comforting Dean, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterintheflightdeck/pseuds/otterintheflightdeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean cares for a feverish Sam after a hunt. Just a little bit of brotherly fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As We Are

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched season 7 and got sad so here's a little thing I tried to cheer myself up with c:

   "Dammit Sam, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling okay?" Dean growled out, Sam's slumped form hanging from his arms. "That asshole nearly took your head off!"  
Sam only grunted in response. Struggling under his brother's weight, Dean managed to get the door of their latest motel room open and both of them inside just as Sam's legs decided to give out. He toppled forward onto the nearest bed, landing face-down with a quiet "oomph."

   "We talked about this. If either of us ever feels out of it, we tell the other so we don't end up almost getting killed." Dean scolded. This last hunt had been a long one. They had been chasing down a lone vampire through Wisconsin. The bloodsucker had been making his way from town to town, leaving a macabre trail of decapitated torsos and limbs in his wake. Vampires themselves were already dangerous, but one who took to tearing his victims to pieces was downright brutal.

   "I don't know, man. I was just focused on taking care of this job and getting out of town." Sam explained, rolling over to look at his brother. To be honest, he hadn't even noticed how sick he was until it was almost too late. He and Dean had chased the vampire into a barn, finally cornering him in the loft. The full extent of the fever that was coming on hit Sam like a truck just as the vampire made his last-ditch attempt at survival, swinging a forgotten garden hoe he found lying on the ground. Dean managed to grab the collar of Sam's jacket and yank him backwards before a well-aimed swing almost left the farming tool lodged in his skull.

   "That's something we need to work on. We start focusing too hard on the job and we suffer for it. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to take a vacation." Dean said, pulling off his jacket. "I hear Vegas is pretty decent this time of year."

   Sam huffed in amusement, a grin pulling up the corners of his lips. He could tell Dean didn't have it in him to fight tonight. Neither of them had slept in a good thirty or so hours and it showed. Dean's eyes were sunken and dark, and a stiffness had worked itself into every muscle in his body. Sam himself felt only slightly better than death warmed over.

   "Here, let's get you out of those clothes. Wouldn't want you to sleep covered in bloodsucker gunk." Dean helped Sam sit up, sliding his jacket off. Sam didn't fight, the haze in his head had spread to the rest of his body and made him feel weak and heavy. He was boiling and freezing all at once, and wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and sleep for a week. Off came his boots next, and then his shirt. Sam hadn't realized he was starting to nod off until a cool hand brushed against his forehead.

   "Jeez, man. I'm pretty sure you're actually on fire." Dean observed. Sam felt a set of pajamas get set onto his lap. "Think you can handle the rest? I'm gonna go see if I can dig a thermometer out of the trunk."

   Sam nodded, slowly rising to his feet. Dean gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading outside to the car. He was relatively certain their first aid kit had supplies for taking care of a fever. This wasn't the first time either of them had gotten sick on the road, and Dean tried to make sure they were always prepared. As he sifted through the contents of their trunk, Dean recalled all the times he cared for Sam when they were kids. Moving from dirty motel room to dirty motel room did a number on both their constitutions. Thankfully, they were immune to a lot now, with only the occasional bout of illness like Sam had now.

   Unfortunately, there was no thermometer to be found. Dean only scrounged up a bottle of aspirin and a half-empty bottle of cold medicine. It would have to do for tonight; he could find a drug store to stock up at in the morning. Entering the motel room, he saw Sam had changed and curled up in bed already, covers up to his chin. His closed eyes were rimmed with exhaustion, and he was visibly shivering under his blankets. Dean felt somewhat guilty having to disturb him, but he figured he should coax a little medicine into him. Slipping off his boots, Dean stepped over to Sam's bed and perched on the edge. Running a hand up and down his brother's arm with a hushed "Hey, Sammy," Dean roused him from his fevered sleep.

   Sam managed to stay conscious long enough to swallow some aspirin. Dean helped lower him back down onto the bed, pulling the covers up over his shoulders again. Sam muttered his thanks before drifting back to sleep. A small smile crept onto Dean's face. Pushing a few sweaty strands of hair from his brother's face, he pressed a quick kiss to Sam's temple. Despite what he may have said in the past, Dean was rather affectionate. He puts on a tough and prickly exterior in public, but there was no reason to keep that facade up in private. His brother was the last precious thing he had left; a small display such as this was hardly out of place.

   Dean got up quietly and dressed himself for bed, slipping out of his own bloodstained clothes and into some worn pajamas. He went through the nightly ritual of monster-proofing the room, drawing up the necessary protective symbols and salting every entrance. Flipping off the lights, he slid into his own bed and glanced over to see his brother was still sleeping soundly. Dean smiled and let himself begin to drift off.

   "Night, Sammy."


End file.
